THE DUNKER, feeling cheated, tries to regurgitate the donut for another go round, and is slightly disappointed when it proves unsuitable for further rumination, being all acid-coated and whatnot. Though now he's got the perfect excuse to eat another donut, so maybe it's not a total loss.
[THE DUNKER's mind roll: 5+2]
In the next 200 milliseconds it takes for the man to pop another donut in his mouth and split it in half with his teeth, THE DUNKER feels himself transcend for but a moment to a different plane, where the secrets of magic roam free. Here floats THE DUNKER, and his will is manifest. A dodecahedral emperor of the nearest ring of forbidden knowledge, each of the 30 edges of his body projects a different form of power upon spacetime, awaiting synchronization of universal factors that will signal the start of his rule over reality. Should be only 1.377 billion or so years left, so it's not so bad. He's already waited for this long, and the waiting is indeed included in the rules, so he's technically bound to just float around here for a while yet.
On the other hand, he can't quite recall a single time the rules have benefited
him specifically. Only the people he stands to eat and make into one of his new edges. Moreover, if he remembers it right, said people are quite delicious, too. And defenseless in the event of a sudden betrayal. Condensation forms on his surface at the mere thought of it. It's an invigorating feeling. Experimentally, THE DUNKER inhales, pulling in numerous secrets blowing by on the magical winds. The secrets worm their way in at the edges, and electrifying magic rouses his physical framework until it and his spirit operate in unified destructive harmony. Oh yes. He does believe he will pop over to let his old friends know what he thinks of all these ruling agreements. And then his edges will be manifold.
1. River of Fell Hookers
2. Blessing of the Stop Sign
3. Inspire Puffin
4. Twin Candy Blades
It's a brand new day, and you're starting it the right way. Take any spells you like.
* * * * *
Halesey is troubled. Has the deadly divine document failed? Or is this part of some greater plan? Perhaps God wills it? That'd be a fine working explanation, he suspects. God wills it. Now to go and check with Him and see what he's playing at.
[Affinity roll: 1-->3+1]
Halesey makes the holy hand gesture and thinks the holy mantra of the potato, but the vortex fails to appear on the occasionally twitching body of Hungry Pete. Crikey, another sign? Already? Surely it cannot be! Halesey looks at Pete and checks to see if maybe God's left a note to bring His prophet up to speed. He hasn't, which reassures Halesey that he probably just thought of cakes at the wrong time (something he ought to bring up in the confessional, if God has one).
[Affinity roll: 4+1+1]
Ah, there we go. A nice large vortex right over the fellow, covering his body almost entirely. As it expands, the outline of human flesh around the vortex slowly starts to spill over into the other realm, slightly reminiscent of Halesey's adventures way back... huh, was it today? My, how time waddles. Anyhow, the flesh of the doubter flows around the edges of the vortex and over to the other side, where God no doubt awaits - once the last of him has made it to the other side, Halesey, after dodging an incautious and broken zombie stripper flying past him. dives in as well.
And there, on the other end, God awaits. Halesey looks back, and notices the doubter still in his flesh-ring form, and also blissfully unconscious. Time to change one of these, he thinks and gives the ring a good kick in one of the softer portions. With a scream, the doubter wakes. With another, more incoherent scream the doubter realizes what's currently happening to him.
"I see you have brought a third man, my prophet," God notes over the screaming, his immense tubery form resplendent in the distance, orbited by a slumbering Initiate Nigel.
"He seems slightly less willing than the others. Does he fit the last potato?"* * * * *
John uncomplicatedly decides to just go along with all of this, walking out into the woods with the briefcase conventionally inextricably attached to his hand. He walks up the terrible road and continues on his path for about thirty minutes until he comes to what looks like a dried-up riverbank, where the path suddenly ends. John looks around.
This, it seems, is the deadest end he's seen thus far. The woods feel deep, dark and oppressive, the undergrowth wild and thick, and the terrain uneven and rich with ravines. The air is cool, and John begins to suspect it might rain soon, until he notices a weird feeling. Something is behind him. He turns around.
There's nothing there. The leaves of the brush are trembling lightly.
* * * * *
Larry thanks the wick-man in the very best way he can - with the gift of hats.
[Larry's affinity roll: 5+2]
At his call, a pile of hats about the height of two chunky dwarfs materializes next to the guy, scattering around the room as per Larry's wish. A few fly past the man's flame, and instantly explode into flame, then collapse in ashes. Some land in Tracey's puddle. One lands on her head - a dark, unusually small derby hat, looking slightly lopsided. Tracey's eyes wander up to it.
"Uh... thanks?" she says, pushing the hat down a little so it doesn't fall off. Looking at her face, Larry notices that the blood coming out of her eyes and nose has coagulated into reddish-brown trails. Traces of vomit remain at the corners of her mouth.
"Yeah, uh, thanks. Can't, uh, actually wear a hat, but thanks anyway," the guy agrees. An awkward silence ensues. "So, anyone want to, uh, go for a walk or something? This place is kinda, well, on fire and stuff."
* * * * *
Her ploy being in motion, if not entirely planned this far,
Eta continues her skullduggery for the greater good.
"Maybe you're right. I do not know all those things you do, unfortunately. And I am not one to deny my mistakes. Still, if they see you and me waiting at their door, wouldn't they just turn around and run away? And you said it yourself that this block has been optimized for the times of its occupants, but since the ma- shade I am looking for is not a regular occupant, couldn't that mean that there is a chance he arrives later? Wouldn't that give them enough time to... I dunno, use a cellphone or one of those screens to alert the one I'm looking for?""Nowhere to run. All five occupants live here. All five are coworkers. None have alternate lodgings. And shades from purple to cyan are subject to curfew, forbidden to be out during proscribed periods of inactivity," the law-shade explains as Eta slowly opens the hatch to the hallway. Immediately as she does, she hears the unmistakable sound of shade speech.
"... and the day was middling in quality," one voice remarks.
"Efficiency is low. Adequate payment is becoming increasingly unlikely. Worse times ahead.""No doubt. But we are in trouble together now. And together we'll find the way out," a tonally identical voice replies, its words coming out banal, the emotion in them plainly being that of tooth-clenched impatience.
"So we hope," the first voice declares flatly, and the sound of semi-ethereal shuffling begins, a noise Eta hadn't really noticed before.
"Yes. Oh, and Teb?" the second voice asks in a sudden, friendly shift of tone. No response, the shuffling continues.
"No reflex. That is good.""Also, I am not Teb," the first voice says, throwing its words disdainfully.
"But good guess, Bonzo.""I am not Bonzo," the second voice replies defensively.
"Just like any other here," the first one concludes. The sound of a nearby hatch opening, then closing.
Figured I should append a small diagram (not to scale) of the place in case my descriptions are unclear.
[F] [X] [E]
+---+---+---EX
[C] [X] [X]
EX - exit.
F - room with form.
E - room with nothing in particular in it.
C - unoccupied room.
X - unexplored room
Author
Topic: The Forgotten Art: Approaching the Nexus (Read 270928 times)